Note to Self (And Other Middle Aged Long Distance Hiker Aspirants):

Never, EVER, underestimate the power of the trail to humble you. And maybe hurt you a little. Or a lot.

Also:

Your body is not fucking kidding when it says, "STOP."

I didn't listen and I didn't stop when my right ankle started whining at Top of Georgia Hostel.

By the time I was forced to stop, 40 miles later at Winding Stair Gap, the right ankle funk had infected the left ankle and I cried with pain and relief at the sight of my husband, my fearless rescuer, at the trail head. It helped that he brought beer.

I crawled into the back of the van, slept all the way home and asked him to dust off the crutches in the basement when we got back to the house.

The next two weeks were devoted to the standard protocol: RICE. Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation. With multiple helpings of Advil, Curcumin and an X-Ray just to be sure nothing was broken.

Nothing was broken.

Not even my spirit was broken.

As soon as it eased, I made a plan to finish this southern end. The benevolent universe smiled in my direction.

And put in lots of road crossings between Winding Stair Gap and Fontana Dam.

All those road crossings meant I could ease back into the thing with a series of slack packs. I could treat my ankles with the respect and care they deserve.

Let the Slack-Pack-O-Rama begin!

Like that, over the past seven days and with nary a whimper from my ankles, I've completed 50.6 more miles of the trail up to Fontana Dam.

I know. Not exactly churning up the trail. But that's how I want these last 450 total miles to go.

I want to luxuriate in the miles. To spend time discovering all the treasures along the way. To stop when I want without feeling like I'll be left behind or like I'll never make it.

Every day I'm on the trail, I'm making it. Whether I get "there" or not. If I'm on the trail, I am there, exactly where I want to be.

And if I'm not churning up the trail, I can spend more time sketching the experience. Which is just another way to deepen that experience. With a chance to relive it every time I look back through my sketchbook.

Here's how it went down:

Friday, June 29. Winding Stair Gap to Wayah Road, 5.9 miles.

Shared lunch with a little garter snake at the top of Siler Bald.

Saturday, June 30. Wayah Road to Burningtown Gap. 8.7 miles.

Pass by the stone fire tower at Wayah Bald.  Stop for lunch and sketching and pondering the magnificence and (hopefully) resilience of this amazing earth. — Pass by the stone fire tower at Wayah Bald. Stop for lunch and sketching and pondering the magnificence and (hopefully) resilience of this amazing earth.

Sunday, July 1. Burningtown Gap to Tellico Gap. 4.5 miles.

So.  Many.  Snails.  Ralph likes to watch Bear Grylls every once in a while and he pointed out that we would never go hungry out here.  I think I'll stick to blueberries. — So. Many. Snails. Ralph likes to watch Bear Grylls every once in a while and he pointed out that we would never go hungry out here. I think I'll stick to blueberries.

Tuesday, July 3. Tellico Gap to the NOC. 8.4 miles.

360 degree views from Wesser Bald and we grazed on our first blueberries of the year.  Okay, there were only four ripe ones, so we'd still have to supplement with snails. — 360 degree views from Wesser Bald and we grazed on our first blueberries of the year. Okay, there were only four ripe ones, so we'd still have to supplement with snails.

Wednesday, July 4. NOC to Stecoah Gap. 13.4 miles.

I looked at the elevation profile before today's hike (big mistake), so I was kind of dreading it. Turns out, NOTHING is bad once you've hiked the White Mountains. Not even a steady climb of 3,500 feet over eight miles can compare to that day in the Wildcats. Plus, there were flowers at the top.